


High and Stupid

by dandelionweekes



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff, Gay, LGBT, M/M, SO, and richie gets all flustered, but like, cute asf, eddie's reckless when he under the influence, eddies hot as fuck, hhahahah, i live for stupid eddie making richie flustered as hell, realllyyy cute, stupid drunk eddie kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 04:31:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20868245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionweekes/pseuds/dandelionweekes
Summary: And his eyes. Why, they were prettier than the girl’s had been. His were sparkling and glittering with every slight movement that he made. They were like dark, rich pieces of--- “Citrine.” Eddie thought aloud, causing the boy to quirk an eyebrow in question.Eddie blinked. Did I really just…?“What?” the boy asked.“Eddie’s a geology nerd.” Stan explained briefly, “Hey, Eds, are you gonna light that joint or not? I really want a hit.”-I can't write descriptions for shit, but I promise this is cute.





	High and Stupid

**Author's Note:**

> UHH I hope you like this. Was inspired by the fact that I got drunk one night and was eating starbursts. yeehaw

Eddie really wasn’t fond of people or parties, but he was fond of liquor and beer, so when Stan had told him that his mother was having a stupid halloween party and he needed someone there to make it a little less  _ stupid _ , Eddie had at first declined his invitation. That is, until he promised him whiskey, Bud Light, and maybe a joint. 

After luring him in, Stan had quickly admitted that his mother’s guests were bringing some of their kids along, much to Eddie’s dismay. He had grimaced at this fact, setting his jaw tightly in irritation before he burst out in aggravation, telling Stan off. At least he could get drunk, though, and maybe high.

The night of the party, Eddie put on a low effort costume ( _ more like no effort,  _ Eddie thought as he tugged on an orange shirt), not finding it within himself to give a fuck. He drove himself to Stan’s place, a duffle bag of clothing and hygiene products sitting in the back seat, because there was  _ no  _ way in hell that he was driving home drunk. He refused to be that reckless. 

By the time he arrived, the house was already thumping with loud music and bustling with energy. The din of conversation was drifting out of open windows along with the sweet smell of cupcakes and candy. The outside was lit up with dim orange lights and decorated with sparkly cardboard bats and skeletons, just barely hanging onto the walls with a small amount of tape. 

Instead of knocking on the front door, Eddie walked up to a large metal ladder that was propped up against the side of the house. It led up to a window on the third floor: Stan’s room. The ladder was there for Eddie and Stan’s other friend, Mike. They often met up in Stan’s room late at night, stumbling through his window so that they could goof off and joke around while they flipped through comic books and magazines. 

He gripped the cool metal of the ladder, shivering as it came into contact with his skin. Then, he climbed up slowly, making it a point to watch as he lifted one foot, then pressed it down firmly against the steps. He lifted the other to repeat the process. Eddie had climbed up the thing hundreds of times at this point, but still, he couldn’t help but worry as he gained height. 

Once he was up to Stan’s window, he pushed it open and stumbled through, tripping over his feet and falling flat on his face. When he lifted his head shamefully, he looked up to see multiple strangers peering down on him in confusion. Stan was sitting across the room from him, tucked into a chair that was sitting in the corner along with a desk. He stared briefly, unamused. 

“What an entrance, Eddie,” he said flatly. 

Eddie began to push himself up from the carpeted floor, his cheeks burning red from embarrassment. Then, a pale hand dotted with warm freckles reached out to him. He looked up, eyes wide, and standing over him was a girl which short fiery hair, a bright grin spread across her face. 

Sitting atop her head, the messy curls were winding their way around her ears, cheekbones, and into her eyes, tangling with her eyelashes. Her eyes were sparkling and twinkling pale emeralds or pieces of peridot, or maybe even amber, Eddie thought vaguely, because there were flecks of golden brown in them that were reflecting her smile. 

“Well, come on, then,” she urged, pushing her hand out further. 

Eddie was frozen for a long moment before he scrambled to grab her hand. She pulled him up with, what Eddie thought to be, and unreasonable amount of force. So much so, that he sort of stumbled into her, which only served to deepen the colour on his cheeks. 

“Jesus Christ, Eddie,” Stan started, “you’re a mess.” And from across the room, he flung a tightly rolled joint at Eddie. It hit his face and fell to the ground. “Here, loosen up.” 

Eddie gave him a slightly annoyed look, but gratefulness flashed quickly in his brown eyes and a “thank you” was on the tip of his tongue. He picked the joint up and then gave a hesitant look to the teenagers that were standing around him, looking at him in intrigue. 

“What…?” he asked nervously, freezing up once more. 

One kid with a mop of dark curly hair atop his head shrugged, amusement coating his features. His eyes were alight and Eddie could just  _ tell _ that he was holding back a laugh. “You just fell through the window, is all.” He said, and Eddie scanned him. 

He had pale makeup caked to his face, and around his eyes were these dark circles that had been smudged on with eyeshadow. The boy smiled a little, and Eddie could make out pointy teeth that had been glued into his mouth. On his neck, there were two little red dots no more than a few centimeters apart. His face was angular and sharp, and Eddie couldn’t tell if this was from the dark contouring that he had put on for his costume or if that was just how the structure of his bones was. 

And his  _ eyes _ . Why, they were prettier than the girl’s had been. His were sparkling and glittering with every slight movement that he made. They were like dark, rich pieces of--- “Citrine.” Eddie thought aloud, causing the boy to quirk an eyebrow in question. 

Eddie blinked.  _ Did I really just…?  _

“What?” the boy asked. 

“Eddie’s a geology nerd.” Stan explained briefly, “Hey, Eds, are you gonna light that joint or not? I really want a hit.” 

And right, the joint, Eddie remembered. He turned to walk over to Stan’s nightstand and rifled through it for a moment before he found a lighter and lifted it to the tip of the joint. He flicked his thumb and a flame appeared, and soon he was sucking in the sweet smoke of cannabis. Stan had disabled the upstairs smoke detector awhile ago, so they could get away with this. 

“E-E-Eddie, huh?” another boy asked. 

Eddie turned to the boy, scanning him. He was tall, but not as tall as the vampire. He had auburn hair, and in it was a flower crown. Attached to his back were a cheap pair of sparkly fairy wings. He wore a pink shirt. 

“My b-brother picked out my co-co-costume.” He explained noticing Eddie’s confused gaze. “What’re you s-supposed to b-b-be, anyway?” 

Eddie looked down at himself. He was clad in a bright orange t-shirt and some black skinny jeans. He returned his gaze to the boy. “I’m a pumpkin.” Then, lifting the joint back up to his lips, he inhaled, holding the smoke in his lungs for a good few seconds before he exhaled. 

Stan came up beside him to snatch the joint from between his fingers so that he could take a long drag. He flung an arm around around Eddie’s shoulders, leaning into him. He pointed a finger at the boy with auburn hair, “That’s Bill. His mom works in the allergen department along with my mom.” He threw a finger towards the girl. Eddie noticed that she wasn’t even dressed in a costume, but a pair of navy green overalls and combat boots with a long sleeved, cream coloured shirt underneath. “That’s Bev. She tagged along with Bill. That’s Richie.” He pointed at the vampire. “I think our parents went to high school together.” He said, craning his neck as he took a puff of the joint. “And that’s Ben. He’s in my Psych class. Oh, and Mike’s downstairs getting food.” 

Eddie glanced around, and everyone was still looking at him as if he was the belle of the ball---especially the vampire---or, Richie. His name was Richie, Eddie reminded himself as he took the joint from Stan. He inhaled, staring right back at Richie, not quite sure what to make of him. 

The rest of the teenagers just sort of stared at the two, an awkward silence hanging tensely in the air before it was broken by Mike opening the door with an unbelievable amount of force. It swung open, the door knob smacking hard against the burgundy wall of Stan’s room. Immediately, Stan pulled away from Eddie to scold him. Mike simply giggled as Stan slapped his arm, berating him. His eyes looked past Stan’s arm and lit up upon seeing Eddie. 

“Eddie!” he called out, childlike enthusiasm seeping into his tone. He was already inebriated, Eddie could tell. “It’s you!” 

“Sure is,” Eddie smiled lazily, and he could feel the weed taking affect, relaxing all of his muscles and filling his mind with something fuzzy and warm. 

Then, abruptly, the joint was plucked from between Eddie’s fingers and brought to Richie’s pale makeup-coated lips. He mirrored Stan’s actions from before, slinging an arm around Eddie, pulling him close. This caused Eddie to cry out in opposition, trying to snatch the joint back, but he couldn’t; he was too short. Or Richie was just a fucking tower. He couldn’t quite tell which one was true. 

“Say, Eddie,” Richie said in a voice that made Eddie want to stomp on his toes or kick him in the shin, or something. “Why don’t we play a little game?”   
  
Eddie’s face scrunched up at the prospect. “Like what?” he asked, and Richie handed him back the joint. He took it graciously. 

Richie thought for a moment, his eyes flicking up to the ceiling for a long moment before he smiled. “Go fish?” 

And that’s how Eddie ended up sitting on Stan’s floor, high and pretty tipsy---maybe drunk---playing Go Fish with a boy called Richie Tozier, who was dressed up as a vampire. In front of him was a bag of mini Starbursts that he was munching on happily, the gooey candy embedding itself in the crevices of his molars. The pack of cards that the two were playing with were old and so worn around the edges that the cardboard had gone soft and fuzzy. 

“Do you have a five of hearts?” Eddie asked, narrowing his eyes at the cards in his hands. 

“Go fish,” Richie replied, watching as Eddie drew a card from the deck between them in response. 

On Stan’s bed, Bev and Ben were chatting about poetry and the advanced english class that they shared together. Bill, Stan, and Mike were sharing a beer that Mike had snagged from downstairs, talking animatedly about some TV show that Eddie could never find it in himself to care about. And across from Eddie, Richie was grinning at him, beaming so brightly that Eddie sort of wanted to squint. 

“What grade are you in, Eddie? Hm…?” Richie questioned, then hummed, lifting a brown beer bottle to his lips so that he could take a swig of it.

“Eleventh,” Eddie answered suspiciously, flicking his eyes up so that he could peer up at Richie through his eyelashes. “Why?”    
  
Richie clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, smiling. He shuffled through his cards for a moment before he lifted his gaze, letting his eyes meet Eddie’s. “No reason.”   
  
“Well what grade are  _ you  _ in?” 

“Twelfth. Do you have a three of clubs?”   
  
“Yes,” Eddie grumbled, handing the card over. After doing so, he snagged Richie’s beer, taking a large gulp of it.

Richie raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Jesus, slow down Eds.” 

  
Eddie rolled his eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He flicked his eyes up so that they could meet Richie’s, and they were flickering fiercely in defiance. “Only Stan calls me Eds.” 

“Well...now I do.” Richie pressed his palms flat against the carpet of Stan’s room and leaned backwards smugly, smirking. He could tell that he was getting Eddie fired up. Eddie all high and drunk, wearing that stupid orange shirt because, sure, he was a pumpkin. Eddie with his tousled hair sticking up wildly and his lips that were swollen because he had been biting them needlessly all night, which was something that he did subconsciously whenever he wasn’t sober. 

“Bite me,” Eddie snapped, leaning forward as he narrowed his eyes and tightened his lips. 

His eyes were puffy and red, and he looked a little ridiculous with his hair dishevelled and his lips big and red and his eyes giving away that he was  _ so  _ high. Then for a moment Richie thought that he was pretty high on Eddie. He was sober---he only had half a beer in his system and he hadn’t smoked enough of the joint to feel any of the effects---but despite this fact, he felt dizzy and bubbly and bright. With the way Eddie was looking at him, and with the way that he looked sort of absurd, but also like he had just gotten fucked into a mattress, Richie couldn’t help but feel this way. 

“I might,” Richie grinned, barring his fake vampire teeth. 

“Yeah?” Eddie raised his eyebrows daringly, and then from across the room Stan told him not to do anything he’d regret the next morning. Eddie was good at doing that when he was under the influence. He grew reckless and spontaneous. 

“Yeah.” Richie confirmed, and he couldn’t even blink before Eddie was pulling him forward by the fabric of his shirt, pressing their lips together harshly. Their teeth clashed and Eddie bit down on Richie’s lip hard, eliciting a strangled moan from the taller boy. 

Bev whooped encouragingly at the two, but Stan simply groaned, telling them to get a room. Eddie had tuned them out, though, and Richie’s heart was pumping so fast in his ears that their comments were drowned out. 

Eddie shoved his tongue into Richie’s mouth, pushing forward as Richie let out another muffled noise of surprise and pleasure. Eddie, Richie realized as the other boy’s tongue invaded his mouth, tasted so sweet from the Starbursts that he had been eating. Fruity flavours clouded his senses, urging him to press forward towards Eddie as much as he could, but just as he was going to, Eddie pulled away, giving a self-satisfied look as he wiped his mouth. 

“Didn’t think you were so needy,” he commented slyly. 

And  _ god _ , Richie was about to drop  _ dead _ . How was it fair that Eddie could do that? How was it fair that Eddie could just make him  _ moan  _ like that? He glanced down at his pants for a quick moment, throwing his head back to groan. And of course  _ that  _ happened. 

“What the fuck was that!?” Richie asked, trying his best to regain his composure and recover from the moment. He felt like he was choking on the air around him, and he was so  _ hot _ and lightheaded because all of his blood was now rushing down  _ there _ . 

Eddie shrugged, turning back to his cards. “You have a three of hearts?” 

Richie blinked at him dumbly for a long moment before he stood up abruptly, not really sure what to make of this situation. He looked over at Stan helplessly. 

“He always gets like this,” Stan explained, not even bothering to look over at Richie. “He’s a chronic dumbass when he’s drunk or high---and in this case, he’s both.” 

As he informed Richie on the details, he was braiding a friendship bracelet around Bill’s wrist, and Bill was leaning back onto the wall, watching him intently. 

“I  _ do not,  _ and I  _ am not _ .” Eddie protested. 

“You gave yourself a stick and poke once when you got smashed.” Stan reminded him. “And last time we went to a party, you were hanging off of every guy that you could get your hands on.” 

Richie laughed at this, causing Eddie to glare in his direction. “Guess we’re both  _ needy _ ,” he said, then held out a hand for Eddie. 

Eddie wasn’t quite sure why he took it, but he did, and soon he was being pulled up and pressed close to Richie. Eddie looked up at the taller boy. “You bite?” he questioned, tone light and innocent. 

“I do,” Richie smirked. 

“Me too.” Eddie spared no hesitation before he sunk his teeth into the makeup-covered flesh of Richie’s neck. He took a moment to create a bruise with his mouth before he pulled away, stumbling backwards from Richie. He held a hand up into the air, his wrist going limp. “And if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go throw up in the bathroom now.” 

As Eddie walked off, Richie realized that he had never been more attracted to anyone in his entire fucking life.


End file.
